Page 191 of Two Marlboros

Church smiled in satisfaction: I had passed the test.

“That’s right, Scottfield. What can we infer from that?”

He made a brief pause in which I also thought about answering, but fortunately did not venture.

“It’s simple: the man you caught is not Harvey. He’s a fucking doppelganger.”

Church pounded his fist on the table and snapped to his feet.

“A goddamn fucking doppelganger, that’s what he is!”

It took me a moment to find the common thread in those words of his, but it was immediately obvious: If Harvey had a scar under his right eye, there was no way it was missing. What’s more, even I, with only a quick glance, had discerned subtle differences between the two photos.

A moment of silence followed, then Ashton dared to speak.

“Are we really sure? Couldn’t we ask for recognition?”

Church placed both hands on the table and leaned toward Ashton. “We already have, Stoner. Do you think we’re all a bunch of imbeciles?”

“Who was asked?” continued Ashton.

“To Ryan Goldwin and to one of the witnesses, Nathan Hayworth. They both confirmed that whoever you bunch of idiots caught is not him!”

That silence became solid and stuck to my skin, almost to the point of strangulation. I couldn’t think of anything intelligent to say, but I thought that even standing mutely with a downcast gaze was not the best of calling cards. The only consolation was that there were three other people in the same situation in the room with me, excluding Church. But Davies was a longtime captain and had no intention of putting up with Church’s rants.

“Any word on the real Harvey Walker, sir?”

Suddenly Church recomposed himself and tried to lock into that skimpy jacket all the hatred and disgust he felt for us, especially for the two sitting in the front row.

“We are making further verifications, but it appears that he has successfully completed his escape to Mexico. He got away with it.”

No one else said anything. I dared to turn my gaze to Ashton, and he did the same to me. We exchanged a quick glance, after which I went back to silently processing that sense of shame and helplessness.

“Now go away, all of you.”

We all obeyed that order without a word. As we left the room, I looked up at Taylor, and on his face, I read a contrite but not too remorseful expression, perhaps softened by the years of service he had accumulated over time, unlike mine, which must have looked truly awful.

When we were in the hallway, not even Ashton addressed me. No one did. We returned only to our offices, silent, hoping that no one would notice our existence.

It took at least fifteen minutes of silence before Ashton, in the office with me, cleared his throat. I lifted my head from the files I was pretending to read, only to find that he was watching me. The next moment he got up, grabbed one of the chairs in front of my desk and moved it next to me, after which he sat down in it. He crossed his hands thoughtfully and bent his lips inward; I meanwhile let go of the pen in my hand, ready to listen to him.

“Listen...” he began, then lowered his gaze and separated his hands. One he brought behind his neck, embarrassed. “I wanted to apologize.”

“For what?”

“For what I said about Nathan. For how I wanted him to be my culprit. I’m sorry.”

I thought back to what Ash had told me that night in the hospital and how he thought Nathan was involved with therobbery and the drugs. I couldn’t say that at the time those accusations of his and his personal ambition hadn’t gotten on my nerves, because they sure had. I knew, however, that to Ash’s ego those apologies had weighed like a boulder, especially since they were made with an embarrassment I had never seen in him, so I decided to take note of the courage he had had in admitting his mistakes and tried to put aside my wounded pride.

“I’m thirsty,” I replied, and he looked at me with wide eyes, not understanding. “Any chance you would accompany me to get something? My treat, of course.”

Ash’s face relaxed, and his tension was dampened completely by a giggle. “Very gladly, boss.”

Ash and I took our seats at the corner table in the central cafeteria. It was a spacious and bright room, with a series of tables leaning against the walls and some placed in the middle of the room. Drinks were dispensed but there was also food, just to cut the hunger when the situation did not allow for a more adequate meal.

I had decided to fill my stomach with just any sandwich, while Ash had staged a glycemic drop that forced him to take out a slice of raspberry pie. We had small talk, especially about that morning’s chase and the scene Church had made; the fact that Ash was rather good at impersonating him improved my mood substantially.

The place was quite crowded, and chatter filled the air; a couple of officers were sitting at the table next to us in fits of laughter, and I envied them because they certainly had not had as bad a morning as we had.

---